The thing you should know about how you raise your kids is that no one cares. You know, I mean like morally we care if you're violent with them or say starving them or letting them download Jay-Z songs, but generally speaking we don't care. I'm sure that whatever you're doing is fine. Be it actual cow's milk and Oreos after school or raw almond silk dream and gluten/grain free pumpkin seed flower snack doodles with agave frosting, no one cares.
Maybe if I was raising your kids I would care, because you know, I respect your wishes for them and I am actually paying attention to how you're doing things in case you ever fall to an untimely death having previously chosen me to rear your crunchy offspring but right now I'm seriously not so I seriously don't. Think about that for a second the next time you press your lips into that terse ass smile and avert your enlightened gaze when I tell you I gave my children KD. Parenting is not a contest, well I mean it is between me and my ex-husband but that's a whole other can of endocrine disrupting bisphenol A. What I mean is that I know you're doing the best job you bloody well can to raise your kids, do you know that about me? I'm busy, my BGH loving kids need their BPAs refilled so maybe while I do that you just tossel around on the PVC free play mats with your homeschoolers.....
Where was I? Right, listen, I got off on the wrong foot with this. I get it, I know there's pure love and wellness in what you do - dishes lose out to spinach smoothies in the tub, laundry takes a rain check while organic cotton blanket forts pull into first place and it's all beautiful, you're doing a bang up job. Homeschooling, co-sleeping, tandem-nursing and all the other ings that you're up to are spot on for you and your co-parent. I see me in you because we are the same, we're Mothers. Stop for a minute and you'll see you in me.
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